


the sunk-cost fallacy

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/M, Gen, also some other ships and characters implied and/or named, lots of casual discussions wrt death, past giles/jenny but i'm not tagging it because that would be mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28501392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: “Youneverintroduce romantic partners to your daughter unless you think it’s going togosomewhere. And you haven’t thought thatanyof your relationships were going to go somewhere before—”“You,” said Rupert.Anya probably went a little pink. “Yeah. Me.”
Relationships: Rupert Giles & Original Female Character(s), Rupert Giles/Anya Jenkins
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	the sunk-cost fallacy

**Author's Note:**

> i stayed up till 2am to write this, and not gonna lie, i'm really glad i did. this was fun. i hope that this sets the tone for the kind of stuff i end up writing in 2021: just absolutely whatever i want. i don't think anybody asked for this fic but i'm proud of it nonetheless.
> 
> (also hello again we're back with the giles/anya they are GOOD and i LOVE THEM.)

By the time Anya realized that things with Rupert were getting serious with a capital S, she’d gotten comfortable enough with teenagers that the thought of meeting his teenage daughter was no longer as intimidating as it used to be. Rupert’s shop was a pretty popular teenage hangout destination, and when Anya had started working there, she’d had to get used to annoying little brats coming in and pestering Rupert with annoying questions and demands for attention. Anya, who had been trying to very unsubtly indicate to Rupert that she was very much on the market for some sexy employee/boss shenanigans, had initially detested the interruptions – but as time went on, she became more and more acclimated to the teenagers, enough so that she’d come up with clever monikers for the regulars and even struck up a friendship with a few of them.

Rupert kept the shop open during school hours and closed it to pick up his daughter, who came in to help with the shop on weekends. Anya worked weekdays, which meant that she’d never actually _met_ Janna, though she did have a general idea of what the kid looked like. There was a picture on Rupert’s desk of his happy little family from before the car crash – him, his intimidatingly pretty dead wife, and a gangly preteen with Rupert’s crooked smile and his dead wife’s dark hair. Anya figured that kids didn’t change _that_ much four years down the line, and always imagined the elusive Janna as the face from the picture attached to a slightly taller body. It simplified things.

What _didn’t_ simplify things was when Rupert kissed her in the storeroom for the first time, and then his eyes went very wide like he hadn’t even _thought_ about kissing anyone since his wife died. Which Anya _knew_ wasn’t true, because Rupert had gone through quite a few romantic partners in the time she’d known him – but it was a look she should have really taken into consideration, because the next day he sat her down and said that he wanted her to meet his daughter.

“Huh,” said Anya, who had heard Rupert complain about how difficult it was to date people he didn’t feel strongly enough about to consider introducing them to his daughter, and who therefore thought that she was quite a lot calmer than she had any right to be. Coming from Rupert “I’m-Probably-Never-Getting-Married-Again” Giles, this was essentially him asking if she wanted to be the kid’s stepmom. She felt like she should be a little more terrified by the prospect. “You _do_ know that we only kissed, like, yesterday, right?”

“Yes, well—” Rupert went very pink. “It’s not as though this hasn’t been a long time coming, is it?”

This was a fair point. The number of sexually charged conversations that the two of them had had over herb jars and newt eyes was disturbingly high. Still, Anya felt the need to point out, “You _never_ introduce romantic partners to your daughter unless you think it’s going to _go_ somewhere. And you haven’t thought that _any_ of your relationships were going to go somewhere before—”

“You,” said Rupert.

Anya probably went a little pink. “Yeah. Me.”

“Anya, we’ve known each other for nearly two years,” said Rupert with a small, shy smile, “and unless I’m mistaken, you haven’t shown any interest in dating _anyone_ during that time.”

This was, in fact, because Anya had been head over heels for Rupert from the second she realized that such a devastatingly attractive man had the most delicious British accent she’d ever heard. The fact that Rupert had finally put this together was more than a little bit mortifying. Anya’s blush deepened. “Knowing that _I’m_ serious about this relationship isn’t a solid enough reason to justify me meeting Janna,” she countered. “Unless _you’re_ the kind of serious that takes _years_ to pine and swoon—” And then she stopped, her eyes going very wide, and a nervous smile stole its way across her face.

Rupert leaned forward and kissed her very softly. “Oh, Anya,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Did you really think I’d kiss my business partner, my _best friend,_ if I _wasn’t_ thoroughly and seriously in love with you?”

“Well, I don’t know!” said Anya. Her heart leapt. “You do tend to make rash and impulsive romantic decisions! Didn’t you hook up with Ethan, like, seven times last year when your wedding anniversary with Jenny rolled around? I had to go and drag you out of that bar before you made it _eight—”_ She winced, then. Maybe bringing up your new beau’s dead wife right after he told you he loved you was bad form. Was it bad form? She’d never been very good at these things.

But Rupert laughed, quiet and warm. “Jenny would have _adored_ you,” he said, which was, implausibly, one of the sweetest things he’d ever said to her. “And I really _do_ want you to meet Janna. I—” Abruptly, his smile faded.

Now _that_ was weird. “Rupert?”

Rupert’s hand dropped from Anya’s face to pinch the bridge of his nose. He drew in an exhausted breath. “Oh, _lord,”_ he said. Then, to Anya, “I suppose there actually _is_ something we need to talk about. Logistically speaking. It feels a bit dishonest to continue, otherwise.”

“…okay,” said Anya warily.

“Janna…” Rupert bit his lip. “Well. Her mother was and is very important to her, and while she doesn’t mind me casually dating, I don’t think she’s ever liked the idea of me genuinely finding someone else to share my life with. Part of the reason I’ve avoided introducing people to her is because it’s never been serious enough to warrant upsetting my daughter over.”

Anya stared at him. Slowly, she said, “And you’re telling me this _now?”_

“It’s not been _relevant_ till now,” said Rupert, but he did have the good sense to look a little ashamed about it. “I didn’t ever think – that is, you’re so _wholly_ out of my league, Anya—”

“I will smack that self-deprecating attitude right out of you, so help me God,” Anya informed him irritably.

Rupert’s eyes darkened, a small smile dancing across his face. “Is that a promise?”

 _Goddamn_ it, she’d been trying to make a point and the nefarious man had distracted her with some _very nice_ thoughts regarding the kind of unprofessionalism they could now get up to. Anya glared at him, kissed him, glared at him some more, and said, “First of all, I have made it obvious since _day one_ that I was romantically interested in you, you’re just _obtuse_ and miss signals. Second—”

“I do _not_ miss signals!”

“You do _so,_ Rupert. Don’t think I don’t remember that story about Jenny trying to subtly ask you out for _three months_ before giving up and dating that lawyer for a year. _Second,_ I care _very_ much about you, and I’m certainly willing to weather the storm with you if your daughter’s got entirely understandable issues regarding any potential attempts to replace a perfectly lovely lady.”

“No one is _replacing_ Jenny,” said Rupert pointedly.

“Of _course_ not,” said Anya, lightly whacking his shoulder. “But it’s a little bit hard to explain that to a fifteen-year-old who still misses her mom.”

Rupert exhaled, letting his head fall forward to bump his cheek against Anya’s. “This whole affair is dramatically difficult,” he said softly, “but worth it, in the end. I have loved you for quite a long time, Anya, and you know better than anyone that meeting my daughter is…significant.”

“I’m thinking a June wedding,” said Anya.

 _“Anya.”_ There was a laugh in Rupert’s voice.

Anya tugged his face up to hers. He looked up at her with a heart-meltingly bashful smile. “We’ve got this, okay?” she said. “We always do. I can absolutely handle your daughter. I handle teenagers on a daily basis.”

Rupert’s smile flickered. “Janna is…a bit different,” he said.

Privately, Anya thought that this assessment was likely based on parental bias. “Well, then I’ll handle her a bit differently,” she said, with enough conviction that Rupert’s smile came back in full force. _Piece of cake._

* * *

 _“WHAT?”_ shrieked Janna.

Anya, who had been very calmly doing inventory in the back of the shop while waiting for Rupert to break the news, jumped. She’d expected some degree of reticence, but _shouting?_ What if Anya had broken the glass jar of rosemary she was holding? She placed the jar back on the shelf, listening warily. She couldn’t quite make out what Rupert was saying, but—

“YEAH, OF FUCKING _COURSE_ IT’S A LOT TO TAKE IN! WHAT THE _FUCK?”_ More soft, worried words from Rupert. “I DON’T CARE IF SHE’S THE FUCKING POPE, DAD! I DON’T _WANT_ TO MEET HER! NOBODY NEEDS TO MEET YOUR STUPID MIDLIFE CRISIS TROPHY WIFE WHORE!”

Well, _that_ was just uncalled for.

 _“Janna!”_ said Rupert, loudly enough that Anya could hear it.

“FUCK YOU, DAD,” sobbed out Janna, and the stompy sound of combat-boot-clad feet sprinting out of the shop was followed by the store bell ringing as the door slammed shut behind her.

Very slowly, Anya turned around to get a better look at Rupert. He was still standing at the front of the shop, looking positively miserable. “I knew it wouldn’t go over well,” he said exhaustedly. “I just – didn’t know it would go over _that_ poorly.”

“Rupert, please take this in the spirit that it’s intended,” said Anya very seriously, “but does your daughter need some kind of professional help?”

Rupert’s eyes narrowed. “And in what _spirit_ was that intended?” he said icily.

Anya blinked, startled by the force of his sudden anger. “It’s just concerning to see a teenage girl get _that_ angry over her dad saying he wants her to meet his girlfriend,” she said carefully. “I wasn’t expecting anything like that either.”

Rupert exhaled. “I shouldn’t take this out on you,” he said quietly. “I know you’re just trying to help. I-I must admit, I’m a bit – protective – of Janna.”

Anya wasn’t entirely sure if a girl who could scream and stomp that loudly really needed all that much protecting from the gentlest guy she’d ever met, but she did kinda think it was a sweetly paternal look on Rupert anyway. “Maybe she needs some time to come around,” she suggested. “Give her a little bit of space. We can put things between us on hold until you’re sure she’s doing okay.”

The look on Rupert’s face made it clear that she’d said the exact right thing. “I _am_ sorry,” he said, taking Anya’s hands. “I don’t mean to be such a-a difficult person to conduct a relationship with. It’s just—”

“Look, I know you well enough to know that you’re her dad before anything else,” said Anya, squeezing his hands. “It was kinda insufferable when I started working here. You wouldn’t shut _up_ about how well she was doing at band camp.”

Rupert rolled his eyes a little, but he was kind of smiling. “I’ll keep you posted,” he said.

* * *

It was surprisingly difficult to keep things cool and professional around Rupert now that they both knew what kissing each other was like. Daily, Anya had to fight the impulse to smooth down his hair, or adjust his tie, or step directly into his arms and push him up against the wall and feel his sharp, pleased intake of breath. But every time she found herself bubbling over with that unfortunate, potent new-relationship energy, she brought back the memory of Janna’s tearful anger and reminded herself that restraint and patience would inevitably pay off in the long run.

“Listen, I _hate_ to be the nay-sayer,” said Hallie over coffee, “but what if it _doesn’t?_ You more than anyone should know that teenage girls are volatile and unpredictable.”

“I resent that remark,” said Anya primly, taking a sip from her paper cup.

“Actually, honey, you _resemble_ that remark,” Hallie informed her. “Think about it. If it were you in Janna’s shoes—”

“Oh, I would have emotionally blackmailed my father’s potential girlfriend into leaving him,” said Anya immediately. She had been a _very_ frightening child. She was a slightly less frightening woman, but only because she’d decided that caring about people was sometimes worth it.

“See?” said Hallie, as though this proved that Anya and Rupert’s continuing relationship was fundamentally doomed.

Anya huffed. “I don’t _see_ anything!” she countered. “First of all, Hallie, I’m not even _slightly_ susceptible to emotional blackmail. I _invented_ psychological manipulation. And _second,_ I like to believe that my patience and resilience will eventually win Rupert’s daughter over—”

“Anya,” said Hallie, “don’t let the sunk-cost fallacy motivate serious relationship decisions. You can’t spend the rest of your life waiting for a teenage girl to decide that your relationship with Rupert is _allowed.”_

“He’s her _dad,”_ said Anya with frustration. “That’s _important.”_

“I’m not disputing that!” Hallie objected. “I’m just _saying_ that at some point, you might have to actually end this thing and move to someone whose daughter _doesn’t_ hate your guts.”

“She doesn’t hate _my_ guts,” said Anya, “she just hates any potential girlfriend’s guts. And I’m _not_ arguing with you,” she added at Hallie’s look, “I just…” She sighed. “I’ve been in love with Rupert for a really long time,” she said quietly. “I don’t like the thought of having to let go of him, even if it’s the best option for everybody involved. That’s stupid. Shouldn’t two people who are in love just get to _be_ together?”

Hallie placed her hand over Anya’s on the coffee cup. “Oh, honey,” she said. “You know it’s not that simple.”

* * *

“I _don’t_ want to meet her, Dad,” said Janna for what felt like the millionth time. She wasn’t screaming anymore, though, which Giles decided to count as some kind of small victory. “You said that you weren’t gonna bring anyone around unless you were serious about them, and _I_ don’t want to have to live with some weird lady who I don’t know who’s having sex with you in the bed that _you and Mom shared,_ like, that’s _gross,_ and I don’t want to have to _think_ about the fact that you’re basically _defiling Mom’s bed—”_

Personally, Giles thought that Jenny would have been absolutely delighted to see the level of petulant chaos her daughter was able to wreak. “Janna, you are five steps ahead of what I’m asking,” he said tiredly. “Anya isn’t moving in with us—”

“Oooh, _Anya,”_ said Janna in an obnoxiously nasal voice. “So, what, is she like _my_ age? Are you having one of those mid-forties breakdowns where you date a teenager? That’s _gross,_ Dad. I don’t wanna meet your teenage child bride.”

_“Janna—”_

“I don’t know why you’re acting like I’m being unreasonable,” said Janna, flipping her hair over her shoulder and glaring up at Giles. “You _know_ Mom wouldn’t want you dating _anybody_ seriously. She _always_ said that you two were the great love story of the ages, Dad, or have you forgotten _that_ because you’re too busy sucking face with your stupid blonde shopgirl?”

It was juvenile, Giles reminded himself firmly, to be so affected by his teenage daughter’s attempts to lash out. Juvenile, and yet – the very thought that anyone would ever believe he had entered into a relationship with Anya with careless abandon, after it had taken him _years_ to even admit he wanted to share his life with someone new – his throat was tight. Perhaps he would have to have this conversation another day. “Excuse me,” he said stiffly, and hurried out of the kitchen, shutting the door firmly behind him as he half-staggered out into the backyard.

The rosy glow of the setting sun illuminated the crystal ornaments hanging from the tree in their backyard. Jenny had put them there; she’d thought them decorative and whimsical. Giles had thought them ridiculous garbage until she died, at which point they had become painful, wonderful echoes of a woman tucked close into his heart. He studied them for a very long time, watching them twinkle and spin in the quiet summer breeze, and then he pulled out his phone and dialed Anya’s number.

Anya picked up on the very first ring. _“Rupert?”_

Giles exhaled, shaky and wet, and said, “Would you mind terribly if we went out to dinner tonight?”

 _“A little bit, yes,”_ said Anya in that snippy, irritating way that somehow always comforted him. He’d grown to greatly appreciate her brand of honesty. _“It isn’t as though I had_ plans _for the evening,_ _being too hopelessly in love with you to even_ look _at another person romantically and all that, but you_ did _say that we were going to have to wait until your daughter warmed up to the idea, and I don’t appreciate—”_ She stopped. _“Hold on, never mind. Rupert, are you okay?”_

“I…” Giles swallowed. Then he said, “You know, Jenny was terribly jealous.”

 _“…not sure that I’m enjoying wherever this is going,”_ said Anya.

“No, I – Janna said something, something that…affected me. More than I’d like.” Eyes a bit blurred with tears, Giles tilted his head up towards the sky in a poor attempt to keep them from spilling over. “I do think Jenny would have liked you quite a lot,” he said. “That’s the truth. And I _am_ in love with you.”

 _“Sensing a_ but _here,”_ said Anya, tension woven into her laugh.

“It’s simply…hard,” said Giles. “Janna has taken it upon herself to remind me _every_ day that her mother wouldn’t at all like the idea of me dating anyone else. And whether or not it’s _true,_ it is still abominably painful to imagine spending the rest of my life bereft of romantic companionship.”

 _“Oh, that’s—”_ Anya scoffed. _“That’s ridiculous! She’s_ dead, _Rupert. Your dead wife isn’t going to stop being dead long enough to have an opinion on our relationship. Suppositions aren’t gonna get you anywhere – as awful as it is, you’re never really gonna_ know _how she might have felt about it, because she’s_ dead. _What matters isn’t how she would have felt about it, or what your life would have looked like if she were still here – it’s what’s here and now. You have a kickass daughter and—”_

“Anya,” said Giles, and was surprised to find himself fighting down a laugh. “I’m not upset about the bit with Jenny.”

 _“What?”_ He could practically hear Anya deflating. _“Huh. Okay. Then what_ are _you upset about?”_

There was something refreshing about Anya’s up-front approach to problems. Giles chose his words carefully. “I suppose I’m…hurt,” he said. “That my daughter thinks so little of my judgment. That she’s decided for herself that my attempts to find love are misguided, flawed, and selfish, solely because I could only ever have loved Jenny and no one else.” He laughed, though this time it came out miserable and tired. “And it isn’t reasonable to be hurt by a fifteen-year-old who’s lashing out in every direction, I don’t think.”

 _“Reasons schmeasons. Things push your buttons and you deal with them.”_ Anya hesitated. _“And – hey, I think I’m gonna change my answer. No.”_

“Answer?”

 _“No,”_ said Anya emphatically, as though this explained everything.

“Refresh me. What was the question?”

Anya let out a dramatic sigh, then said, _“I_ wouldn’t _mind terribly if we went out to dinner tonight.”_

Giles felt a small smile steal across his face. “I’ve missed you, you know,” he said. “It’s been a bit…different, since we started kissing.”

A bubbly laugh sent warmth through his entire body. _“I’ve missed you too, Rupert! Oh, I’m so glad you said that, because I’ve felt_ all _kinds of different every day at work and it has been_ abominable. _I’ve never had a workplace romance this torridly romantic, and it makes it_ impossible _to concentrate on the money.”_

“Good lord, you really _are_ in love with me.” Anya laughed again, and Giles found his smile growing. “Shall I pick you up?”

 _“Seven PM,”_ said Anya. _“And whether or not you get a glimpse tonight, please know I’m wearing some_ excellent _lingerie in preparation.”_

Giles _did_ wish Anya would stop giving him heart palpitations.

* * *

When Giles stepped back into the house, Janna was still sitting at the kitchen table where he’d left her, hugging her arms to her chest. Her eyeliner had smudged, her nose blotchy in a way that stood out even under the pallid, vampiric foundation she wore. She looked up when she saw him, and he was reminded of the very little girl who had woken him up at three in the morning to tell him in a shaking voice that she was _certain_ there was a monster in her closet. “Hey, Dad,” she said unsteadily.

Giles placed a hand on her shoulder, briefly. She reached up with a quick flutter of fingers to try and keep him there, but he’d already moved away. Some distance might be good for both of them, tonight. “I’m going out, all right?” he said. “Try not to cause major property damage while I’m gone.”

“Can I go with you?”

The question took Giles by surprise. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “Truthfully, Janna, I’m going to see Anya.”

Janna wavered, then stood, looking up at Giles with determined resolve. “Question still stands,” she said.

His daughter _had_ been crying. This close, the evidence was unmistakable. Throat tight, Giles said, “If you’re not ready—”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Dad,” Janna burst out unexpectedly, clenching her fists before reaching out to tug at his hands. “I’m _really_ sorry. I didn’t – I’ve been acting like a total bitch about this whole thing because it _sucks_ and I don’t want you to date anybody else, but I – if it’s making you cry, I—” She sniffled, pulling her hands away to scrub awkwardly at her face. “I’m _sorry,”_ she spat out, as though the words burned her just a bit.

Carefully, Giles reached out, tugging Janna’s hands gently away from her face. Her mascara had started to run. “You would think,” he said, “that after that debacle at the funeral, you would have at _some_ point invested in some high-quality waterproof mascara. You know there’s some of your mum’s old makeup in that box of yours, don’t you?”

“That’s _Mom’s,”_ said Janna, as horrified as if Giles had suggested desecrating some sort of sacred altar. Perhaps he had.

“And I…” Giles trailed off. “You know your mum was always better with discipline,” he said. “She never seemed to have patience with you when you were throwing one of your terrible tantrums over not being able to buy a designer leather jacket, or missing a concert because it was on a school night—”

“They weren’t _tantrums,”_ Janna grumbled.

“My _point,”_ said Giles, “is that…” He hesitated, lacing his fingers with Janna’s and staring down at her chipped black nail polish. He’d painted his nails like that, back in the day. “I’m not quite so good at telling you to stop being a petulant child,” he said. “I don’t think I ever was, but it’s become so much harder as I watch you grow up without Jenny here to see it. I lost my wife, but you lost your _mother._ That’s a world of difference.”

Janna glared at him. Then she said, “You know, if you’d gotten T-boned instead of Mom and _she_ was trying to date again, she would’ve totally killed me if I acted the way I did about you and Anya.”

This was a fairly astute point. “Which means?”

Janna shrugged a little. “I hope Anya’s a little like Mom, that’s all,” she said. “Maybe I _do_ need somebody to call me on my shit.” She chewed on her lip, staring at her toes. “I don’t like going too far,” she said. “Not far enough to make you cry, anyway.”

Giles considered this. _“Do_ you want to meet Anya tonight?” he asked. “Or was that just your olive branch?”

Tentatively, Janna said, “I kinda just wanna stay home with you and watch Doctor Who. _New_ Who,” she added, ignoring Giles’s disapproving huff, “and it has to be a Donna episode or what’s even the _point.”_

Giles leaned down to press a kiss to Janna’s forehead. While she was making a particularly dramatic production of wiping it off, he said, “I’ll call Anya. We can set something up for a bit later, how’s that?”

 _“Gross,”_ said Janna, before hastily tacking on, “The kiss, Dad, I was talking about you kissing me on the forehead like I’m fucking _five_ or something. The Anya stuff is fine.”

Giles dialed Anya’s number, very aware of the fact that Janna was covertly watching him. When she picked up, he said, “Anya, I may have to reschedule.”

 _“Why am I not surprised?”_ Anya huffed. _“You call me_ right _when I’m done with my hair, makeup, and excellently formal-yet-sensual first-date outfit. Well, I can tell you one thing, mister—”_

“Instead of dinner tonight,” said Giles, hurrying to get the good news out before Anya cut him off again, “can you come over for dinner tomorrow? Janna’s done with band practice at five, so we can all have a sit-down dinner at…shall we say six-thirty?”

Anya drew in a soft breath, all irritation gone. _“Wait. Really?”_

“Well—”

Janna tugged on Giles’s elbow. “Hey, Dad, can I have that for a sec?”

Without really thinking about it, Giles handed her the phone.

“Hi,” said Janna into the receiver. She listened for a moment, then, “Yeah, _can_ you come over for dinner? I can’t say I’m sorry for calling you a midlife crisis trophy wife whore until I really meet you, because I don’t know whether or not it’s true yet. I might end up standing by my original statement.” Giles, entirely regretting his carelessness, tried to grab the phone back. Janna darted backwards with a laugh. “Yeah, he _did_ try and grab it back!” she giggled. “Uh huh! _Ugh,_ you better not be a total kiss-ass just to get on my good side. I will have you know that my mom was _totally_ phenomenal and you don’t even _begin_ to measure up.”

 _“Janna, the phone,”_ said Giles through his teeth.

 _“Oh, is that supposed to insult me?”_ came Anya’s voice through the phone. _“Well, missy, I’ll have you know that I only recently developed a tolerance for teenagers. I’m not at_ all _interested in becoming a mother.”_ She considered. _“Yet. How do you feel about half-siblings?”_

“Murderous,” said Janna very seriously. “I’m gonna kill all your babies out of jealousy and spite.”

_“Well, you’re driven. You get that from your mother, I assume, because Rupert will constantly tell me about all of his brilliant ideas to boost revenue and never actually implement them.”_

Janna looked a mixture of delighted and indignant. Giles finally managed to grab the phone back. _“Stop_ telling my daughter I’m not driven,” he informed Anya. “Get to know her at dinner tomorrow. Janna, you were _crying_ not five minutes ago—”

“UGH, DAD, DON’T SAY THAT IN FRONT OF ANYA!”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to look good in front of Anya? Need I remind you that you called her – what was it – a _midlife crisis whore?”_

 _“Midlife crisis trophy wife whore,”_ Anya rattled off. _“Not gonna lie, it’s got a ring to it.”_

Giles laughed a bit exhaustedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

 _“I’ll bring something for your daughter,”_ said Anya. _“It might be poison. Gotta get a jump start on murder if she’s planning on killing babies in this house.”_

“No, I’ve changed my mind, you two are not meeting,” said Giles, and hung up on Anya’s laughter. Janna was grinning a little when he turned to face her. “So,” he said. “Not _quite_ as intimidating a prospect when you can put a face to the name, hmm?”

“She’s _blonde,”_ said Janna dismissively.

“Your _best friend_ is blonde,” said Giles.

“Buffy’s _different._ I’m pretty sure she dyes it or something. _She_ says it’s natural, though, so—” Janna shrugged. But her expression was more relaxed than Giles had seen it in _quite_ a while – certainly since he’d broken the news about Anya – and when she skipped over to wriggle under his arm and give him an awkward hug, her arms were tight around him in that way that meant she was properly happy to be there. “If she _does_ turn out to be a Stepford Wife or something, I’m gonna axe murder her,” said Janna. “But, like, only after you two get married, so that then you’ll have _two_ dead wives under your belt and nobody will ever wanna marry you again.”

“Glad to see you’ve got plans,” said Giles, ruffling her hair. “Did you ever consider the fact that a scheme like that will put you in prison?”

“Buffy’s new girlfriend says _she’s_ gonna end up in prison someday,” said Janna. “She and I can be cellmates or something.”

“Your mother would be so proud,” said Giles. Janna collapsed into peals of laughter.

* * *

Anya showed up with a bunch of sandwiches that she’d very clearly bought from Safeway and a distressed leather jacket that made Janna light up like a Christmas tree. “I had a fling with this punk rocker in the nineties,” she explained. “He was a total asshole, so I stole his jacket. It’s all about taking it back from the patriarchy.”

“Gross,” said Janna, hugging the jacket to her chest.

“Go set the table,” said Giles, handing Janna the bag of sandwiches and shooing her out of the room. Anya was still hovering shyly in the doorway. “You can come in, you know,” he said.

Anya laughed a little nervously. “I just – this is a lot,” she said. _“You’re_ a lot. And it’s not like I didn’t sign up for this, because I _did,_ and your intimidatingly wonderful daughter isn’t putting me off as much as she was when she was calling me a whore – which, incidentally, _clearly_ her mother’s been dead for four years, because from what you’ve told me about Jenny, that word would _not_ have gained traction in a house with her in it – but I really, really love you, and I’ve been _terrified_ that this whole thing was going to dramatically implode at some point, and now I’m about to have _dinner_ with _you_ and I _love you—”_

Giles tilted her chin up with his thumb and kissed her, quiet and soft. “I love you too,” he said. “Let’s do our best to not implode, yeah?”

“The best we can do,” said Anya earnestly. “And we _do_ work pretty damn well together, don’t we?”

They were interrupted by exaggerated vomiting noises from the hallway. “Janna, are you _done_ setting the _table?”_ inquired Giles as flatly as he could manage, trying in vain not to blush.

“I literally hate Anya so much and I think she should die,” said Janna. “Stop desecrating the house with your coupledom.”

Stepping deftly around Giles, Anya leaned down to look directly into Janna’s eyes. “Are you _testing_ me, tiny child?” she said. “It’s an unwise move. I co-run a cutthroat business that’s run multiple shops on our block out of town, almost entirely because I’ve deliberately cut prices without your father noticing. Do you know what else I could do to you when he’s not looking?”

“You’ve _what?”_ said Giles. “Anya—”

Janna raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you think you’re all that?”

“I _know_ I’m all that,” said Anya. “I am thirty-seven years old, I have a dual degree in history and women’s studies, and I played professional volleyball for three years before I was banned from the sport for excessive violence.” (“That’s not real,” said Giles. “Is that real?”) “I could kill you with my pinky finger if I felt like it, but I _don’t._ Step wisely.”

Somehow, Giles was not at all surprised when his terrifying nightmare daughter _finally_ cracked a smile. “You have a degree in women’s studies?” said Janna. “What can you _do_ with a degree in women’s studies? I’m _not_ being mean, ask Dad, I’ve been thinking about going into it myself in college maybe. My mom minored in women’s studies but she went into computer sciences instead ‘cause she wasn’t super sure what she’d do career-wise with a degree like that.”

“Hence the double degree,” said Anya, following Janna into the kitchen and tugging out a chair for her. Janna sat down, propping her chin up on her hands and surveying Anya with furtive interest. “I was going to be a history professor. Didn’t work out, obviously.”

“History is _super_ boring,” said Janna, and pulled a face. “Is that why you and Dad are dating? Does he get you hot for history or something?”

“No, I’m dating your father because I intend to slowly take over his business,” said Anya very seriously. “It’s a long-term scam. First I marry him, then I get his assets, then I pull a black widow and kill him. You want in?”

“Mm mm. I told Dad I’d kill _you_ if you started doing hinky shit after he married you.”

“Hmm. Death match. I’ll win.”

 _“I’ll_ win.”

Giles leaned against the doorframe and watched Anya unwrap Janna’s sandwich for her. The setting sun illuminated the two of them, brought out the soft blush in Anya’s cheeks and the sneaky smile creeping across Janna’s face. He supposed she thought he didn’t notice, but he was always paying attention to little things like that.

* * *

“So,” said Anya. “Jenny put these up?”

“A long time ago,” said Giles, winding his arms around her stomach. Janna was _supposed_ to be in bed, but he was fairly certain he’d heard her clattering about on the roof. Probably sneaking off to see that guitarist boyfriend of hers, as though she ever _needed_ to sneak off to begin with. Giles wholly approved of Oz. “I think she found them at some flea market in San Francisco. She was always quite fond of rubbish; it’s why our house is still a bit cluttered.”

“You’d think she’d buy better quality tree ornaments,” said Anya. “I bet I could just hang a glass bottle off this tree and you wouldn’t even notice the difference.” She turned in Giles’s arms, placing her hands quietly on his shoulders, and tilted her head back to look at him. “Hey, I love you,” she said.

Giles blinked, then smiled. “I love you too.”

“No, I mean—” Anya exhaled a little nervously. “I love you, and I think I kinda love your terrible daughter. She reminds me a lot of you.”

 _“Really,”_ said Giles. Given that all Anya had seen of Janna involved death threats and gracelessly snatching gifts without so much as a thank you, he wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

“It’s in the eyes, I think,” said Anya. “She loves people _really_ hard.”

“And that’s like me?”

Anya grinned, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his nose. “You love _me_ really hard, don’t you?”

“Really, _really_ hard,” said Giles, leaning in to kiss her. A series of concerningly loud crashes from the roof made them jump apart. _“JANNA,”_ he shouted, _“WE CAN HEAR YOU UP THERE—”_

 _“GOD, DAD, SHUT UP!”_ Janna yelled back, yanking a suspiciously boy-like figure into her room through the window.

“Ah, so _she’s_ snuck _him_ in,” said Giles. “I shall pretend not to notice.”

“So when do I start having to yell at her about strange boys in her room?” said Anya. _“You’re_ certainly not going to do it, and I think that somebody _should.”_

“Anya, you’ve known her for less than a day, and she doesn’t take kindly to parenting anyway. I’m fairly certain she would kill you.”

“Did you _not_ hear our dinnertime conversation? I would kill her _first.”_ But Anya was smiling in the general direction of Janna’s room, warm and _excited_ like for some godforsaken reason she actually _liked_ the death threats and general antagonization. Something about that made Giles grin a bit too.

**Author's Note:**

> please know that janna is basically like a tiny goth jenny calendar who is 500000% more fighty because she's the combined combativeness of teenage jenny and teenage giles. the world really isn't safe.


End file.
